Love Blinds Us All
by MulishaMaiden
Summary: A series of murders is going around Gotham City, and Malarie Carmichael is the connection. What happens when her life entangles with Batman's and Bruce Wayne's? Why is she so important to the killer? Bruce:Batman/OC


**Disclaimer: I own nothing that pertains to Batman, it all belongs to DC Comics, WB, Mr. Kane (who gave us Batman), and Chris Nolan. I only own my OC characters, and my plotline. A HUGE thanks to nightangel96 for all the help. Please enjoy!**

Malarie Carmichael sat at her desk in the quiet classroom, grazing her knowing fingers over the paper she had in her hands. After scanning through it, she laid it down in favor of rubbing deep circles on her temples to relieve the headache that was coming on.

With funds for the school running lower each day, she was truly feeling the stress of being the owner, and a teacher of a school for the blind. Most of the problem laid in the fact that not many of Gotham 's elites had children in need of such an education seeing as how they weren't blind. Not having the students meant not having the publicity needed to keep the institution up and running. The easy way out would have been to ask her very generous parents for the money, but her own guilt and pride got in the way.

It was no secret that Daniel and Elizabeth Carmichael loved Malarie very much and had the desire to help their daughter. With her retired father being one of the most well-known Gotham lawyers and her mother being a teacher at Menard High School, a prestigious school that only accepted five hundred students for each graduating class—Malarie being one of them ten years ago—money was not hard to come by in her family. But as a child, she had been taught that she had to work for the things she wanted, so having the money just handed to her by the same people who taught her to do otherwise did not sit well for the stubborn woman. Malarie heard the door to the room open, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Ms. Carmichael, I just don't know how we are going to get around this," Malarie spun her chair around when Claire Preston's aggravated voice echoed throughout the room. Her voice was a higher pitch than the other ten women who worked here adding to the painful pulsing behind her eyes.

A sigh escaped from the young owner before she answered. "I have told you along with the rest of the staff that I have a plan."

"I don't see why you don't ask your parents for the money. It's not like they will be losing anything."

That comment made her blood boil. "I don't think it's any of your business how I obtain money for _my _school, and it's surely not _your _place to tell me where to get said money. Now, I would like for you to leave my classroom, and I will see you Monday, Ms. Preston."

With a _humph _Claire quickly walked out of the room, her heels clicking as she did so. Malarie then made herself stand from her now uncomfortable seat, and gathered her purse, so she could leave.

She could hear the mop moving in circles on the floor down the hallway as she exited the room. "Have a good weekend, James."

"You, too, ma'am." She flipped her device on, letting it lead her through the halls—even though she already knew her way around, but you could never be too careful—and to the bus station just outside of the building.

It was almost eight o'clock by the time Malarie made it home, and she was exhausted. It didn't help that tomorrow night she was supposed to be attending the Cancer Society fundraiser with her parents. The fundraiser itself wasn't a problem—she was always up for helping towards a good cause—but a night spent around the snobby rich of Gotham was a night that could easily be spent on something more productive. But she had a goal, and she'd do anything to reach it.

Stiffly walking into her bedroom, Malarie listened one of the three voicemails on her cell phone. One was from her mother reminding her to be ready by 6 o'clock sharp tomorrow evening. Too tired to concentrate she didn't bother listening to the other two voicemails, and fell into her bed still dressed in her work clothes, instantly falling asleep.

Malarie stood away from the other wealthy men and women of Gotham that occupied the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor. The glass occupying her hand was finally empty as she took the last sip.

"Can I get you another, Ms. Carmichael?" came a soft British voice from in front of her.

"No, thank you, Sir. Since this is about the third time you've check on me, could I ask your name?" Malarie asked with a polite smile.

"Why, I'm Alfred Pennyworth, Master Wayne's butler." Malarie nodded in his general direction, briefly remembering being greeted at the door by someone with a similar voice.

"Well, Alfred it's certainly nice to meet you. I hope Bruce's presence is better than it shows in tabloids. I know just how horrible they think I am to my parents. You can't believe a word they say."

"Very true. Though some days are better than others with Master Wayne, I wouldn't have it any other way," Alfred stated causing Malarie to chuckle.

"Malarie Olivia Carmichael, what are you doing just standing around?" Came her mother's abrupt voice. Malarie loved her mother dearly, but she could be quite demanding sometimes. Never having a sister, or many girlfriends, she always confided in her mother with everything, and she had a deep respect for her after everything she went through for her daughter. "You need to find Bruce, my dear, and speak to him about the fundraiser," she wasn't trying to be pushy, but she knew her well enough that without a little push, she wouldn't talk to the man.

"Ah, you need to speak to, Master Wayne then, Ms. Carmichael," the butler asked. Malarie rolled her unseeing eyes in her mother's direction as she gently grabbed the younger woman's arm.

"Of course she does, or she wouldn't have come," Elizabeth smiled

"Thank you for watching over her, Alfred."

"My pleasure, ma'am. Nice to meet you, Ms. Carmichael. You two ladies have a nice evening," he called to the retreating women. He had always thought the Carmichael 's were pleasant people that usually kept to themselves. They weren't as uptight and money blowing as the other rich men and women, and their daughter was brought up nicely, and not as an insolent child, like most children in this society. These were three people who had to work through life, especially after Malarie's unfortunate accident.

"Alfred, do you know where we could find young Bruce?" Elizabeth asked before Alfred turned away.

"Mom, I'm sure a man like Bruce Wayne is busy at his own charity event," Malarie stated, sounding a bit annoyed by being dragged around like a child.

"But never too busy for a business proposition," Alfred replied.

"It's not for business. Just have an educational proposition," Malarie shrugged with a small laugh.

"Either way he can't be that busy," he looked at Elizabeth seeing the woman point out Bruce in the crowd talking to her husband, who also spotted them and was waving her over.

"Malarie, your father wants us. Goodbye, Alfred," the Englishman nodded watching Elizabeth lead her young daughter to the former lawyer. Daniel Carmichael was one of the most successful lawyers in Gotham . He have spent more time putting criminals behind bars before retirement, but his dedication went to his wife and daughter every single night. "My two favorite girls, how nice of you to join us. Let me introduce you to Bruce Wayne, Malarie." Not knowing where he was that moment, she stuck her hand out anyways.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Bruce grabbed her small, soft hand in his larger, calloused one.

"Pleasure is all mine, Ms. Carmichael," his eyes widened as her fingers grazed over his hand as if she was studying it.

Feeling Bruce tense, she shyly pulled her hand away, only now becoming aware of what she was doing. "Sorry, that must have been weird with some strange girl playing with your hand," she laughed nervously, "but it just surprised me how calloused they were. Figured a man of your stature didn't get his hands dirty," she dropped his hands, self-consciously tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"I play a lot of Polo," he responded humor in his voice as if he were telling a joke only _he _could understand.

"Polo?"

"Yes," he confirmed chuckling.

Bruce took the time to study the woman in front of him. Her skin was softly, sun kissed, giving her a natural tan. Rich, auburn hair piled atop her head in an elegant way, showing off her neck and delicate shoulders. Her plump lips were covered only by a layer of gloss. Eyes, the color of honey with green flecks littered in the iris were surrounded by dark, long lashes, but he noticed that she stared at nothing in particular. He then started looking over her dress that fit her toned hourglass figure. That's when he noticed the small device in her hand recognizing it from Applied Sciences when he first came back. Lucius must have built it for her upon request of her parents.

"So, your father tells me you have something to discuss with me?" he asked, bringing his attention back to the conversation.

"Whenever you're free," she replied.

Bruce saw Malarie fiddling with her hands nervously. "Do you two mind if I borrow your lovely daughter?" he asked sending them a sincere smile. Both Daniel and Elizabeth shook their heads seemingly delighted by his request (happy that he wanted to talk to Malarie. That they were closer to the reason they attended the party), and Bruce lead Malarie away from the bulk of the crowd.

"I didn't mean for you to leave your own guests," she commented, not wanting to be the cause of him ignoring the people he invited.

"It's boring me anyways," he chuckled along with the woman, "So, what is it you have for me, Ms. Carmichael?" she turned knowing exactly where Bruce was just from him speaking, and hearing his deep, steady breathing.

"I run a school for the blind, and I know my parents have plenty of money to support it, but I want to hold some sort of charity event to raise the money rather than taking it," Bruce saw the same drive in her eyes as he saw in Rachel's when she talked about her ambitions.

"Well, Ms. Carmichael, I'm sure I can put something together for you. Might I ask what you will use the money for?" Malarie's brows knitted farther together in confusion, "Not that I'm wanting it to be used for anything specific more curious than anything about the things you need for your school."

Malarie nodded her understanding. "I want to have enough supplies and materials to make it a public school rather than a private school. Parents shouldn't have to pay for their children to go to a school just because of their special needs" she felt Bruce's hand against the small of her back leading them through the crowd of people, and outside where it was quieter and cooler.

She could feel the wind softly brush against her exposed skin sending a slight shiver through her, and Bruce's masculine scent with a hint of cologne filled her nose as she stood closer to him.

"Sorry, figured it would be less distracting on the balcony. Continue please."

"As I was saying. Most people in Gotham can't afford to put their child through private learning. I don't want to be the person to deny anyone because of they're civilian status. Not everyone can be so lucky to grow up as we did," Malarie finished with a slight smile on her face.

Bruce couldn't help, but smile as he watched this woman speak about her goals of helping the people of Gotham . They were both trying to make a change, but in different degrees.

"Well, I will start arranging an event just for your school. I appreciate what you are doing for those in need."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Wayne. I don't know how to thank you enough."

"Well first I insist you call me Bruce. I've got to be only a few years older than you."

She thought back to one of the last articles she read about the Prince of Gotham seeing his age, and she remembered that he was quite right about that, "In that case call me Malarie from now on. I was right though."

"About what?" Bruce asked.

"There's more to you then you let on for the tabloids," Malarie winked causing a deep chuckle to emit from his throat as he shook his head.

"Oh, you have no idea," he said lightly thinking about his nightly habits.

Getting more and more uncomfortable by the second with all the stares and murmurs she could hear, Malarie let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, Bruce, as lovely as a party as Alfred throws. I must take my leave."

"Wait, how did you know that Alfred throws these parties?"

"You may work more than the average rich man, Bruce, but not even you can throw an event this well organized."

"Very true," he looked around for anything causing her sudden anxiety,

"Why the rush home? We were just starting to make friends," Bruce gave a pout even though he knew she couldn't see it, but she still laughed anyways.

"I can feel the people staring. It's bad enough to hear the fake sympathy whispers about me, but I'm sure they're gawking at the fact Bruce Wayne is associating with Malarie Carmichael, the blind charity case," he could hear the sadness in her voice and the slight frown on her face gave it all away.

She hated being around people knowing that all they did was talk about her, and being that her senses have heightened, they can't really hide their whispers. He understood though. After losing his parents, it was never the same for him to be around the people they associated with.

"Trust me I know. These people have no respect, and all they want to do is start rumors, and think they know how it feels, but they don't. They pinpoint the bigger families to sell out, so theirs will be ignored by the public. Who wants bad publicity ruining their image?" Bruce stated yet questioned looking at all the people that filled his house that didn't give a damn about him only his money and his family's status.

"Bruce, before I leave can I ask you something a little…strange?" His brows furrowed in confusion, but he responded with a yes, "Don't think I'm trying to be a creep please, but can I…um…" her cheeks started to turn a soft red, "can I touch your face? I rely on my senses for everything even to make pictures in my head, and..." but she stopped rambling as those rough hands grabbed hers and pulled them up until her hands were pressed against his cheeks.

Soft skin with a touch of stubble ran across her fingers. Malarie let her nimble fingers trace all over Bruce's face slowly. He had to hold back a shutter as she traced his lips. Clenching his jaw, Bruce tried to control himself, it had been so long since he had any kind of physical contact with the opposite sex, and this girl was driving his mind wild. Reluctantly her hands left his face, and Malarie backed away a bit from him.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce. Thank you for your help," Taking a chance, she stood on her tip toes, placing her hands on Bruce's strong, muscular shoulders before her lips met with his cheek. She swiftly turned away switching on her device allowing her to avoid all the people on her way out.

"Quite an intriguing girl wouldn't you say?" came Alfred's voice from out of no where.

"Are you sure you're not the one dressing up at night fighting Gotham 's criminals?" Bruce asked with an amused smirk.

"I assure you, Master Wayne, that's still your ruse," he retorted with a grin.

"It's hard to believe that people like the Carmichael 's even like being around all these people," he mused mostly to himself.

"They only come to give money away to whichever charity you're donating to at the time."

"Alfred," the Englishman turned towards Bruce, "Would you mind sending Malarie Carmichael a check for $500,000 just to help out before the fundraiser? Send it to the school please."

Alfred gave a knowing smile to his young master that he's known since the boy was born. "Certainly. Heading out for the night ,sir?" Alfred asked as he saw Bruce walking in the opposite direction of his guests.

"With our new criminal friend roaming about, I can't take a night off," he said. Alfred just nodded walking away, so no one would come looking for him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sunday morning came by too fast for Malarie as she was woken up by the annoying ring of her cell. The clock read, 8:30 a.m., when she looked over causing an annoyed groan to be heard.

"Malarie Carmichael," she answered politely despite her frustrated mood.

"Ms. Carmichael, this is Detective Hillard. I hate to be calling this early, but I have some unfortunate news." Detective Hillard paused to take a deep breath. "Earlier this weekend, your student Allison Hardwick was found in an alley after being raped."

Malarie sat up straight, no longer paying her exhaustion any mind. Shocked, she didn't know what to say to the officer. One of her students was raped, the student that she spent more time with, and worked with the longest. Somehow Malarie felt as if this was her fault.

"When did you find her? How is she? Can I see her?" she asked with panic.

"A man found her Friday night while walking around the city. She is fine besides the trauma she is feeling. Seeing her is up to her parents, ma'am, but I can tell you she is at Gotham General…" she could sense the pause from Detective Hillard, and didn't know if it is good or bad.

"Detective if there is anything you need to tell me now would be the time, or I will be hanging up, so I can check up on Allison," she answered curtly, patience wearing thin now.

"We actually need you to come down to the precinct…"

Malarie felt something twist in her gut. "Wait, you think I had something to do with this?"

"No ma'am that's not what we are questioning you for." he answered quickly. "You're with the girl most of the day at school, but we know it wasn't you. We just want you to answer some questions that might help move the case along."

Somehow that didn't make her feel any better. "Okay, I will be there in an hour." And she hung up on him getting out of bed as quickly as she could.

After showering, and throwing on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved turtleneck, she ran out the door, device in hand. Impatiently waiting on the train to make it to the Precinct's stop, she chewed the inside of her mouth nervously. The conductor announced the stop over the intercom, and Malarie made her way off the train, and to the Police building that was just thirty steps to the right from the stop.

"Ms. Charmichael, I'm Detective Hillard if you would just follow me please." she nodded at his request listening for his footsteps to make following easier.

The noise of the busy office was starting to quiet down, and it made her feel more relaxed knowing there wouldn't be anyone surrounding her as she spoke to the detective. She deduced that Detective Hillard led them into a room from the sound of a door shutting.

"Please take a seat." Malarie let her device scan the room, and heard it beep once it detected a sold object-she guessed would be a chair. "Has anyone you aren't familiar with been leaving messages on your phone. Threatening, or even just heavy breathing?" He asked, going straight to business.

"No."

"Has anyone visited you at school, or left any messages for you there?"

"No. Where are you getting at Detective? I don't see how this pertains to Allison."

The Detective sighed tiredly, showing the stress that had come with his latest case. "We believe this man is going after young girls that look like you. Allison's rape proved that last night."

Malarie was even more confused now than she was earlier when Detective Hillard called. "I don't think I quite understand what you mean by that."

"There have been five other rapes, Allison's being the sixth. The other girls were killed afterwards. We think he panicked with Allison though. The man that found her got to her ten minutes after everything happened." He paused looking at the fear stricken face of Malarie. "The thing is, each of these girls' ages ranged from 10 to 15. All six victims had red hair, and had all gone blind under unique circumstances."

"Could this have something to do with my family?" She asked cautiously

"We don't know ma'am, but we want to keep a squad car outside of your condo whenever you are home. Just in case."

All she could muster was a nod in his direction, and the guilt she felt before was nothing compared to the guilt and sadness she was feeling now.

"Is that all, Detective?" she forced out-not really wanting to talk right now.

"That's all, Ms. Carmichael." Malarie stood from the chair, and walked out of the room, and made her way out of the police station. As soon as she felt the outside air tears started running down her face. Why would someone want to hurt little girls that resembled her? She always kept a low profile, and her parents made sure of that even after the accident.

"I need to see Allison." she told herself getting on the bus as it drove up.

Once arriving at the hospital, Malarie got Allison's room number, and made her way to the fifth floor. The beeping of heart monitors, and PT stats unnerved her as she walked through the hallway, dodging the gurneys that were lined up against the wall. After running her fingers over many room number signs, she finally reached Allison's. She lightly knocked on the door not wanting to disturb the other patients on the same hall.

"Ms. Carmichael? Oh thank God you're here. Allison's been asking for you all day." Lisa Hardwick said taking Malarie into her arms. She felt the woman's body shake with sobs. She held on tight until the woman let go, wiping her eyes with an already used tissue. "I'm sorry, it's just hard on all of us right now."

"That's completely understandable, Mrs. Hardwick. How is she?"

"As well as she can be. They're saying she should have been killed. All the other girls were."

"It may be hard to see right now, but for now we should just be thankful that we still have her."

"Come on in. She really has been wanting to see you." She walked in behind the girl's mother trying to put on the best smile she could. "Allison I'm going to get some coffee, but Ms. Carmichael is here to see you."

"Hey, Allison." Malarie greeted, feeling around for a chair to sit by her.

"Hi, Ms. Carmichael. I don't think I will be coming to school tomorrow." She sounded so distraught, and it broke Malarie's heart to listen to this young girl in such pain. Someone this young shouldn't have to deal with such a trauma, but unfortunately they do live in Gotham , and these things happen everyday.

"You should sit out the whole week. Just until you feel better. I'll bring all your work for this week to you tomorrow. How does that sound?" she asked placing a hand on Allison's.

"That sounds great. Does anyone at school know?"

"I don't know, sweetie. Your name won't be revealed to anyone, and I won't tell a soul tomorrow."

"I don't want to be known as the little, blind girl that got raped." Allison confessed her fear-gripping her teacher's hand tighter before finally breaking down.

Malarie pulled the thirteen year old towards her, and enveloped her in a comforting hug. At least she hoped it was comforting.

"He dressed me up before doing 'it.' He kept calling me Alice, and told me to enjoy the tea party he put on especially for me." Malarie ran her fingers through the younger girl's soft, straight hair. "He said that it had been a long time since we had been able to do this, and he was so happy that he found me again." Then she started crying just as her mother walked back in the room, Malarie heard the soft squeaking of the door.

"Allison, are you okay?" Lisa asked sitting on the bed beside her sobbing daughter taking her from Malarie's arms.

"I will leave now, Mrs. Hardwick. She needs her rest." She bent down planting a kiss to Allison's forehead, and made her way out of that as quickly as she could.

She didn't want to be in there anymore, not after what Allison had told her. It really took a sick mind to dress up his victims, rape, beat, and kill them. Innocent, little girls at that, and she wanted nothing more to hear the screams of this man's suffering for all the pain he had caused these families.

Tears starting falling from her eyes, and she didn't bother wiping them away. Her mind was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the soft beeping of her device indicating that she was close to running into something until she fell to the floor.

"Damn it."

"Malarie?" came that unforgettable deep sensual voice. "Shit. Are you okay?" Hands grabbed hers, and she was lifted to her feet. His intoxicating smell was wrapping around her nose, and knew exactly who she ran into.

"I'm so sorry, Bruce. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings." She felt a finger under her chin, and her head was raised as if Bruce was trying to make her look at him.

"Why are you crying?"

"Oh. Um…" Not knowing what to tell him, she let out a deep sigh. "I want to tell you, but I'm not quite sure I should."

"You don't have to tell me. I just wanted to help." He brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

She may not be able to see it, but Bruce could see the worry, guilt, and sadness in her eyes. He knew it had to do with those girls that have been getting murdered. Commissioner Gordon had told him all about the connection the force had made after Allison Hardwick's attack. His guess was that she had just visited the girl. The strong, confident woman he met the other night was replaced, and he wanted to see that smile that lit up her whole face, but he knew until Batman got this madman off the streets, she wouldn't be smiling.

"How would you like to go to lunch with me? I have nowhere to be." He placed her device and phone in her hand.

Malarie touched her watch, and turned her head back to him. "Okay. I don't have anywhere I need to be."

Bruce felt kind of bad about doing this, but he wanted to get information from her about Allison's attack. But as he thought about it, he was okay with doing this because this got him closer to this monster, and would make Malarie safer. He knew it was only a matter of time before this man started coming after her, as she seems to be the object of his obsession.

"Any place in particular you'd like to go?" he asked as they exited the hospital.

Malarie shook her head, "Not really. As long as it's not one of the many high class restaurants." Bruce chuckled putting his arm around her waist guiding her as they walked.

"Whatever you want." They came to a stop, and she heard a car door open. "In you go," lightly pushing her into the seat.

"So, you're telling me that you punched some poor little boy in the face for ripping your stuffed bunny in half?" Bruce questioned Malarie's actions at six years of age.

"It was the last gift I received from my grandmother before she passed away, and he ruined it. Mom was able to fix him, but it was never the same." He couldn't help but laugh, imaging a young red headed girl who seemed so laid back, punch some rough boy in the face.

"I'm sorry for laughing, but it's hard to see you being violent. You don't seem like the type, and trust me I am a great judge of character."

"What can I say. I'm just full of surprises." She finally smiled the one Bruce had been trying to get on her face this whole time. He watched as she took the last bite of her McAllister sandwich, and glanced down at his watch. It was just now twelve o'clock. They have been at the restaurant for an hour and a half now, and he has yet to coax any information from the woman sitting in front of him.

"I may not be able to see you, Bruce, but I know you're staring at me. You okay?" Malarie asked with a hint of concern in her voice.

He really didn't want to bring it up, but it was now or never. "I was still trying to decipher what made you so upset this morning at the hospital. Is one of your relatives ill?" Malarie shook her head turning away from him.

"Have you heard about the recent murders lately?" She asked.

"The little girls?" Malarie nodded. "Yes, I have. It's all over the news." Bruce grabbed one of her hands in his causing hazel eyes to turn back in his direction.

"Allison Hardwick was the latest victim, but she survived." Malarie paused taking in a shaky breath. She didn't even know why she was going to tell him any of this. They only met last night! "She's one of my students, and I went to visit her today. The things she told me he did to her just make me so sick, Bruce."

"You don't have to tell me." But he really needed to know, so he could get a lead on this guy.

"No, I already started explaining. Better finish…" As Malarie told Bruce everything Allison had told her, she felt her stomach churning, and a wave of nausea run over her.

Bruce noticed that she didn't mention the connection between herself and the victims. She either didn't know what was going on, or she just wasn't telling him.

He was quite shocked that he got the information he did from her. Tonight, Batman would meet with Gordon, and give him the details the Malarie told him. He thought Joker was overboard on the killings and theatrics, but this guy was a whole new level of scum. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Malaire stood abruptly from her chair.

"I need to get going, Bruce. Thank you for the lovely lunch. We should do it again sometime." And the smile that graced her face was forced, and didn't even reach her beautiful, hazel eyes.

"Of course. I took the liberty of putting my number in your phone, so please call me any time. I do insist that I drive you home though." It sounded more like a _don't argue with me on this _request rather than an actual choice.

Malarie nodded, and grabbed her purse-hanging on the chair and let Bruce escort her back to the car. The smooth ride in his Lamborghini (she had asked when they were driving to McAllister's) was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Malarie couldn't stop thinking about why she was so comfortable being around Bruce. She always heard about how much of a womanizer, and how he was a money blowing drunk with no feelings about society except his, but everything he has done for her definitely didn't describe the man that she was sitting beside.

There was another part of Bruce Wayne that only few—she guessed—would know about. She was happy to be one of those people though because she rather enjoyed his company. He wasn't overly cocky, but just by the way he spoke, she could tell he exuded confidence. After only knowing her for two days, he was willing to sit through lunch and swap childhood stories with her, and listen to her recent dilemma.

For what seemed like hours, the car finally came to a stop. Bruce's door opened then closed, and then her door was opened, and a calloused hand grabbed hers, helping her out of the car. Malarie hated when people helped her this much. She felt like a fragile piece of glass people were afraid they may break, but with Bruce she felt like it was okay for him to help her. Like he was meant to.

"I hope to see you soon, Malarie Carmichael." Bruce's soft lips landed atop her hand. She could feel her cheeks grow warm, but she still smiled at the billionaire. "The last two days have been wonderful. I will see you later. And don't forget to call me." Malarie then felt her hand go cold as Bruce let go of it, and heard him walking back to his car.

"Goodbye, Bruce." And with that she walked back into the condominium complex.

Malarie touched her brail watch feeling that it was after 3 p.m. The school was empty except for the few teachers and office workers. It had been one of the toughest days in her five years of teaching. Her thoughts were still heavy with the murders, and she couldn't help but try to find reasoning for anyone wanting to kill them because of her.

Hearing a series of knocks on the door, Malarie told the person to come in. "Ms. Carmichael?" Hearing the distinct clicking of Sarah Curry's kitten heels coming closer to Malarie, she turned her head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, Sarah?"

"This came for you from Bruce Wayne," Malarie's brows raised in surprise. She took the envelope from the secretary's hand after locating her.

"Wow he even got the letter in brail for you," Sarah commented like a love sick puppy dog.

It was no surprise though. Almost every woman in Gotham found Bruce attractive. From the images she could remember before being blind, he was quite the handsome, young man.

_Malarie, _

_For being such great company Saturday night and Sunday, I sent this as a friend to help out until the fundraiser, and hopefully to lift your spirits. After speaking, I knew you were in need now rather than later for some supplies, so I hope this will help you cover what you need. In the mean time, would you mind accompanying me to dinner with a few business partners Saturday night? I also hope that Allison is doing well. If you need anything at all, just call._

_Sincerely, _

_Bruce_

"What did it say?" Malarie handed Sarah the check as she just stood there letting her fingers trace over the letter again just to make sure she got that right. Sarah squealed breaking her concentration.

"He sent you $500,000 for the school after two days. I know you didn't, but… oh my god did you sleep with him?" Malarie turned glaring at the other girl.

She couldn't believe that Bruce sent her so much just after meeting him two nights ago. It was unreal, but Malarie really wasn't going to complain about it. She would call him as soon as she got home to give him her thanks. Only problem was, when she got home he didn't answer, but she left him a voice mail just so he knew how thankful she really was.

"Bruce, I have no reason why you sent me the check, but I just want you to know that I really appreciate it, and if there is anything I can do to repay you, please don't hesitate, and yes, it is more than enough to help with the supplies that we are in need of. Other people may not see it, but you really are a great man, Bruce Wayne." She hung up the phone, and settled down for the night unaware of the man hiding in the shadows on her bedroom's balcony.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed. Please review :)**

**Edited by nightangel96**


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